


The Definition Of...

by mechanicalUniverses



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: AU, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Healing, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, OH FUCK WAIT, Red vs. Blue (Freeform), and they are SUPER gay, im so bad at tagging uh, non-canon settings, past trauma, slightly OOC, some canonical references, that is the plotline, theyre SUPER in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 20:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11699523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalUniverses/pseuds/mechanicalUniverses
Summary: hi again everyone! i have absolutely no idea what brought this on, but hey, i wrote it down, took a look a thought, hey! look at that! so here it is!!





	The Definition Of...

**Author's Note:**

> hi again everyone! i have absolutely no idea what brought this on, but hey, i wrote it down, took a look a thought, hey! look at that! so here it is!!

**love**

* * *

 

It took him by surprise the first time he had this incredulous moment, this sudden pause in what he was doing and he was struck with the realization that his life had led him to fall in love with a man named Lavernius Tucker.

They were sitting on a park bench on a pleasant day. It was warm, but a slight breeze kept the edge of it at bay. The tall oak trees offered them a bit of protection against the relentless rays of light. Tucker was raving angrily on about how something had happened at work. Junior was off on the playground, squealing with laughter as he runs away from another kid playing tag with him. Wash watches him fondly while nodding along to Tucker's rant.

They hadn't noticed an old lady sit down on the other half of bench. When Junior ran up and asked if he can go into the fountain because it's so hot out, she had harrumphed at him and glared at Tucker when he left. Tucker stared right back with an expression that was just daring her to put her toe out of line.

And out of line did she go.

"Aren't you a little young to have a child?" Faster than Wash could even process, Tucker is up in her face, viciously jabbing his finger at her chest.

"Don't fucking shit talk me or my kid! He's the best thing goddamn thing that's happened to me, and he's been worth every damn thing I've done to keep him happy!"

The woman sniffs. "The irresponsibility—"

"Don't even _think_ about getting on my case about 'responsibility for my actions'! Junior isn't a responsibility that I have to deal with like he's a motherfucking chore I have to do, he's my _son!_ "

When they go get Junior from the fountain, Wash follows Tucker with a strange feeling of something like awe. He's awed because of Tucker's vigilance in Junior's happiness. He's awed because of the speed he jumped to defend him. He finds himself awed a lot by Tucker. But he isn't complaining.

As he's watching, he doesn't miss how Tucker picks Junior up with a spin and a grin, holds him a little tighter and a little closer, looking at him like he was all the stars in the sky. Wash offers them both ice-cream, mostly in apology of that woman, which gets him a beautiful smile from Tucker that suddenly make something in his brain snap into place.

Wash doesn't miss how Tucker picks Junior up with a little spin and a slightly bigger grin, holds him a little tighter and a little closer, looking at him like he was all the stars in the sky. Wash offers them both ice cream, mostly in apology of that woman, which gets him a beautiful smile from Tucker that suddenly makes something in his brain snap into place.

_This is who I'm falling in love with._ The thought stops him in his tracks. Tucker turns to him with his eyebrow raised. Asks him what's wrong.

"It's nothing," Wash says. It's partially true because something being 'wrong' right now was impossible. No, he wants to say, everything was just right. But he doesn't. He just gets them their ice cream and laughs when Junior mashes his right onto Tucker's nose.

That night, Wash lays awake thinking about all of it. Tucker's breaths are soft and even, a constant _1-2-3-4 hold, release._ Keeping track helps him center his thoughts.

He knows what 'love' is. It was things like flowers and nice presents, late movies and someone else making your favorite food. He loved Tucker and Junior, if that was the case, more than anything. He would give them everything he had if they would let him. And he's told them that dozens of times.

But _in love_ , he feels that deserves some thing a little different.

_In love_ was Tucker bringing Wash his favorite snack for when he had another one of those wretched nightmares at two in the morning. It was watching Junior with Tucker gazing over him fondly and being at peace with the world. It was poking fun at each other and having trouble properly hanging up hours-long phone calls. It was getting giddy over making Tucker laugh when he came home from work, even when he had had a bad day dealing with customers.

That, he felt, was what it was. And, well, if that was the case, then he was certainly in love with Tucker.

He nearly tears up at that because he never thought he would make it this far. He never thought he would recover from his old life, where he gave up everything that made him _him_ for the sake of a war that he thought would never end.

Tucker had come into his life at a pivotal moment. He had helped Wash pick up those pieces of himself again. He put himself in a few of the places whose pieces could never be found. He didn't try to rebuild him from scratch, but rather he had taken those rusted, jagged bits they had found and helped him restore them and smooth out the broken edges.

He thinks that's supposed to be love, too.

Two weeks later, and Wash is up late thinking again. He only stops because of the comforter shifting, and the _1-2-3-4 hold, release_ pattern breaking into a deep inhale and a grunt as Tucker sits up.

"Hey," he rasps, voice heavy with sleep, "what's up? Nightmare?"

Wash could laugh because that's just so completely inaccurate it's ridiculous. But he doesn't. "No. No, everything's fine."

"So why—why—why," Tucker fails to stop a shuddering yawn. "Why're you up then?"

Wash smiles. "You'll laugh."

"Noo," Tucker mumbles. He paws blindly around the bed before his hand finds Wash's thigh. He uses as leverage to scoot over and place a lazy kiss just under Wash's ear before leaning fully against him. "Promise I won't."

"Hmm, I don't know... You don't sound too promising."

"Wash," Tucker whines. He pokes Wash lightly in the ribs. Wash huffs a small laugh and pushes his hand away, only to take it and hold it.

"I was thinking," he says slowly.

"'Bout wha'?"

Wash hesitates. "About how I'm... I, uh." No, no, he can't start hesitating now, he's gotten too far to get cold feet.

"You're...?" Tucker prompts. He seems a little more awake now. He takes Wash's right wrist and starts rubbing slow circles into it. Wash concentrates on that for a minute. He's hit again with the sheer reality of the life he's actually living now, and that gives him the courage to try again.

"Tucker," he starts.

"Yeah?"

"Tucker."

"If you're gonna pull some cheesy shit tell me you're in love with me at fuck-no-o'clock in the morning, I'm gonna stop you there because I totally planned this shit out, I'm totally saying it first because fuck you."

Wash stops. The thumb in his wrist stills.

"Wait, wait, waitwaitwait—" Tucker scrambles to sit up. Wash can only see half of his face by the moonlight that filters through the curtains, but he can tell his eyes are wide and his mouth is parted in shock. "Were you actually? Like, actually...?"

"Yeah." Wash swallows heavily. "I was."

Tucker rushes up to kiss him. Wash tastes salty tears, and he feels a few splash on to his bare chest. Wash thumbs them away desperately, mind racing with apologies.

"I'm—Fuck—" Tucker laughs breathlessly against his mouth, but it's all hiccupy and quiet, it should be upsetting, but he sounds so joyful it leaves Wash more than a little confused. "Shit, Wash. You— You don't have a damn clue how long I was waiting to say that, and then you, then you go and try to say it _first_ , you bastard." Tucker buries his face in Wash's neck. Wash's heart soars as he leans his head against Tucker's.

"Whoops," he rasps. He wants to laugh because this was just so ridiculously sappy and out of his mind, he doesn't know how else to process it.

"I just..." Tucker looks up. He sniffs and wipes furiously at his eyes with his wrist. "Ugh. Okay. Okay, I gotta say a thing, and you can't interrupt me, 'cause I won't be able to pick it up again."

"Okay."

Tucker takes a deep, shaky breath. "So, so when we first met, what was that, five, six years ago? Don't answer that, it's not important," he adds when Wash opens his mouth. "Literally, first thing I thought was, 'Oh, fuck.'" That startles another bit of laughter out of Wash. "Shut up! Okay, wait, do you remember what the first thing I said to you was?"

"I thought you said to not interrupt?"

"Doesn't count when I'm asking you, dumbass."

Wash thinks for a moment. "Not entirely, but it was probably a really bad pickup line. As in, the worst one ever. Of all time."

"Hole in one," Tucker says with an exaggerated wink. "But fuck you, that one's solid gold. 'Are you from Tennessee? Because you're—'"

"'The only ten I see.' Yeah, I remember." They had been in a bar, Wash because he had decided alcohol would be his answer for the evening, Tucker because he had just been there to have fun. He never wants to think about what would have happened if he had decided to stay in his home for just one more night.

"And you just—" Tucker chuckles wetly. The tears are stopping, slowly but steadily. "You looked me dead in the eye and said, 'My last name is Washington.' And I was just like, 'Wow, okay, asshole.'"

"Thanks," Wash says sarcastically, but he smiles nonetheless.

"To be fair, you _were_ kind of an asshole. But dude, I had to keep coming back and to be honest, I still don't know why. I would say 'there was this look in your eyes' but that's lame as shit, and also not true, so I'm not gonna go too deep into that. Anyways, we started talking and it took forever to just figure out how screwed up you were—"

"'Screwed up' is a term for it," Wash murmurs.

"Shh! It took _more_ forever to get you to let me help you out, and—and there were some days where I was like, ninety percent we were going nowhere, even backward, but god damn it Wash, do you know what you told me one time? Do you know what you said that made me want to stay?"

Wash doesn't answer.

"You told me you _couldn't_." Tucker sucks in a shuddering breath. "You told me you couldn't do it, and that's just how things were, and you were— you were okay with that!" Tucker's voice breaks. He gulps and keeps pushing forward. "There was a night when you were in the bathroom and you just couldn't fucking breathe, I was so scared, and you said _that_ , and I— Fuck, Wash!"

"I'm—I'm sorry," Wash says quietly, "I didn't mean to do that to you—"

"No, no, babe, I know you didn't—"

"Still!" Wash shakes his head. "It wasn't your job to try and help me. You had no obligation to, but—but you did."

Tucker goes quiet. "I did."

"Why?"

"Because I knew it was bullshit," Tucker says immediately. Wash frowns. "You still had things you liked to do. And I figured you weren't just gonna randomly tell me and leaving wasn't an option. We were already friends, and I really, really wanted to help you. So did everyone else."

"You wanted to help me... Because there were things I liked to do?"

"Kinda? Like, you told me that when you were a kid you went around the streets to feed the stray cats. I figured, hey, maybe he likes cats, so I took you and Junior to that animal shelter for a little while, remember?" He does.

Wash smiles softly. "I didn't know that was why you were suddenly obsessed with animals."

"Yeah, well, I'm still not too crazy about them, but you liked them, so I said, 'fuck it' and just went for it, y'know?" Tucker shrugs like he hadn't set aside a piece of his own life for Wash. "And I kept doing it for other things too. One time you said you liked sweet things, so I started putting, like, a billion spoons of sugar in your coffee." Was that why he didn't like it anytime someone else brought him coffee?

"You liked walks in the forest 'cause you liked the smell of dry pine. So I took you up to the shitty little cabin in Montana just so we could walk around in the forest for like three hours every day." Was that why they had driven for sixteen hours to that place? To let Wash... Enjoy himself?

A chord in him reverberates, soft and celestial.

"At some point, I was like, so why am I still doing this? 'Cause dude, this was frustrating as hell. I didn't know what I was doing. I just knew I had to do it 'cause I'd already gotten so far. And you wanna know who told me?"

"Mm?"

"Fuckin' _Junior_ came up to me, and he was like, 'Hey, why is the weird blond guy still hanging out on the couch?' And I was like, 'I dunno,' and he just straight up goes, ''Cause you love him, that's always the answer in stories,' and that was my, 'Son of a bitch!' moment right there!

I wanted to tell you, God dammit, I wanted to wake you up and tell you so badly, but I was pretty sure your brain would shit itself if I did. So I waited, and then when we, when we started going out like, officially, I just—Wash, I dunno if I can explain how fucking happy I was. For _you_. And me, I guess, I was all, 'Fuck yeah, I did it!' But it was mostly for you, don't worry."

"Why... Why me?"

Tucker's expression turns almost sad. "You still really don't get it? You finally gave yourself a chance, and you ended up spending that chance on me, some broke guy who didn't have a damn clue what he was doing—"

"No," Wash finally gets in. His head is spinning with the pace of Tucker's story. He had just managed to get his thoughts in order, but now they fly everywhere as if someone had thrown them like a deck of cards. "Tucker, you—You gave me that chance. I didn't do it by myself. You did it."

Tucker waves his hand dismissively. "Pssh. It just would have taken a little longer. Like twenty years longer."

"Tucker," Wash insists, "that _wouldn't have happened_. I didn't—I didn't want a chance at all." God, why was this still so difficult for him? "I would have been fine with sitting alone for days straight, or go out and do stupid things that would get me thrown back in jail, or giving up entirely." Wash holds his breath for a beat as he struggles to find his next words. Tucker's gone oddly still in his arms. "You made me have a... A reason to keep going," he finally manages. "You, and Junior, and everyone else."

"Oh," Tucker whispers, voice faint. "Oh."

Wash sighs. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on him, but a weight he didn't even know he had on his chest was slowly being lifted, so he keeps going. "It was—That was too much to put on you. I know I made it hard for you. I didn't want to drag anyone else into this. I kept pushing you away, but you kept coming back. It made me so frustrated because I couldn't see the point in trying to clean this," he gestures to himself, "up."

" _Wash_."

"I should say sorry—"

Tucker's grip on his wrist turns a little firmer. "I gotta stop you there."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I gotta stop you there."

"Tucker—"

"Wash, listen." Tucker takes his wrists gently. "You got totally fucked over. Okay? It's not your fault. Unless you're saying sorry for like, years of bullshit that _wasn't your fault_ in the first place, which is fucking stupid. So no," Tucker says firmly, "I'm not sorry for trying to help you feel better. And I'm not letting you apologize for something I did."

Wash gapes at him. His mouth opens and closes like a fish until Tucker rolls his eyes and pulls him down. He kisses Wash on the shell of his ear, his jaw, his nose, between his eyes, his cheeks, before finally settling on his lips. At some point, he had climbed into Wash's lap, so he can properly use both hands to cup his face gently like he's a precious glass statute the would shatter into a million glittering pieces if he was dropped.

"I'm proud of you," Tucker murmurs against his mouth. "That sounds kinda weird, but like... You made it here, y'know?"

"I made it," Wash repeats. He laughs a little incredulously. " _I made it._ "

"Yeah. Yeah, you did."

They spend a few peaceful moments in a gentle silence. Tucker's hands have found the back of his head, rubbing soothing circles into the tense tendons in his neck. Wash feels like every centimeter of space between them is a mile wide canyon, so he holds Tucker as close as he physically can to him.

The door suddenly clicks open. Both of them stiffen, and in shuffles Junior. He has his small alien plush tucked under his arm, his blanket in the clutched in the other.

"Can we have a sleepover?" he mumbles, voice feeble with exhaustion.

"Totally. C'mere." Tucker pats his previously occupied part of the bed. Junior wanders over and clambers on to the mattress, immediately going to tuck himself into the crook in Wash's left side. Tucker has to clamber carefully around him so he can fit into Junior's other side.

"Papa?" Junior asks a moment later.

"Mm?"

"Am I gonna have two dads?"

Tucker makes a weird choking sound while Wash covers his mouth. "Hah, um, where'd you get that idea? I—"

Wash clears his throat. "Maybe."

Tucker shoots upright. " _What_ —"

"Good night," Wash says coyly. He can't help but chuckle as Tucker hisses, "You can't just _do_ that Wash, what the fuck! Dude! C'mon!"

"I can't hear you, Tucker. I'm asleep." Junior giggles at that.

"Wash, we are  _so_ talking about this in the morning, oh my _God..._ "

Wash smiles and closes his eyes.

Maybe this is what it meant to be in love.

**Author's Note:**

> don't look at me, i just wanted some happy men being emotional and in love while also being OOC because that's just what i do best (๑´•.̫ • `๑)  
> if you wanna talk to me for whatever reason, i can be found on [tumblr!](http://scintillating-galaxias.tumblr.com)


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